Stitching Bones~ Susan Richardson

I have known the murmur of rage all my life,
writhing inside my veins like serpentine flash.
I resign myself to the ache of living in captivity.
Garlands of anger cascade over the edges of
pedestals carved from violence and shackle me
to walls covered in the scent of rancor.
I climb into the teeth of misery.
She is a vice that clamps my mouth silent,
turning my words into shards of hatred
that burrow into the back of my throat.
The strike of a serrated refrain crumbles me
into silage, feeding the roots of an unbearable
noise that lingers in the hum of my blood.
I sink quietly into the clamor,
stitching my bones with filaments of patience.
One day, I will emerge, voice mended,
a battalion of embers on my tongue,
and incinerate your mocking grin.

 

©Copyright Susan Richardson 2018

You can read more of Susan’s work on her blog, “Stories from the Edge of Blindness”.

Advertisements

35 thoughts on “Stitching Bones~ Susan Richardson

  1. Susan, this one went through me. I thought I had my arms around it, but the power and energy you put into this blew a hole in my chest, then left me laughing with exultation at the end. This one is a roller-coaster pulling both positive and negative G’s!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sometimes, it’s, too hard, to cast out ALL the noises that tell us we can’t or we’re not good enough, and, sometimes, the noises gets too loud we can’t even, hear ourselves, and yet, we must, find a way, to keep all the noises out, otherwise, we will all, go crazy!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I have nothing but admiration and awe. This piece has such power and strength. Very emotional. I “needed a moment” after reading it.
    When I look at the nonsense I was scribbling last night about a tramp with cramp using cheese spread on brown bread to ease it, frankly I am completely humbled.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much. You are always so lovely to me; I am very grateful. I am glad that my poem impacted you, but you have nothing to be humbled by – the end of your comment had me laughing out loud. Funny is just something I can’t do, and I so admire writers who can!!!!! Without laughter, there is no feeling really alive.

      Like

  4. How is it that you so casually destroy me with your words? Each line hissing like a slow leaking tire yet I’m blasted with a hurricane of truth. I feel like I dissolved you in a teaspoon, balanced you on the tip of a needle and plunged you into my hungry veins.
    This right here is my acid trip
    “The strike of a serrated refrain crumbles me
    into silage, feeding the roots of an unbearable
    noise that lingers in the hum of my blood.”
    and this, ohh this is my morphine…
    “I sink quietly into the clamor,
    stitching my bones with filaments of patience.”

    You make addiction pretty when your writing is the drug.

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s